Words as a Weapon III
by Brooklynnx
Summary: As Jillian has problems at work and as Peter and MJ have their own troubles, a new, mysterious superhuman comes into their lives and creates chaos even the Sinister Six couldn't come up with last time.--discontiuned until further notice.
1. First Story

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the Marvel characters. I own Jillian Finch and family, and Diamond. No touchy!_

"Spider-Man. Long time no see."

"Hey, Finch. How've you been?"

"Just peachy. And yourself?"

"Fine."

"Save the world lately?"

"Uh...no. Not since last week."

Jillian laughed. It was hard not to. After all, Spider-Man was known for his sense of humor. She took a moment to inhale, realizing that, here she was, interviewing the Amazing Spider-Man (as he named himself). She crossed her legs, pulling her formal navy blue skirt down. She looked at the recorder sitting on the table between them. And then she looked at Spider-Man. It was not as awkward as her past interview for her section in the _Daily Bugle_ had been. She thought it would be, since knowing the face underneath the mask does play with your mind a bit. But she smiled and acted professionally, though there was no need. The two were actually very close friends.

"So, Spider-Man. Do you ever take a moment and realize..._wow_...I_ am_ Spider-Man? Do you realize how many people want to be heroes? Want to be you?"

"I actually want to be Hannah Montana, but that's a little secret of mine."

Jillian laughed, her brown hair flowing in front of her face. "And I'm sure everyone else wants to be Hannah Montana. But can I ask you something?"

"You just did ask me something."

"You're last battle, with the Sinister Six...yes, the one I was also involved in. Did that stick with you? Are there certain battles that just leave a mark on you more than others?"

"Well, I--"

"Can you try to answer this one seriously?"

Spider-Man swallowed. "Well, yeah. That day at the_ Bugle_ scared me, Jillian. Mostly because I thought you were going to turn into some sort of murderer. You remember that day well, don't you? You almost shot Doctor Octopus."

"I_ did_, with a plasma blaster," Jillian reminisced. Those few days had caused her so much pain. They had burnt down her house, attacked her family, taken over the_ Bugle_ building, threatened to destroy _everything..._

"And that stuck with me. Because I thought I was going to lose that part of you that I admire most. And then, of course, the fight with the Green Goblin after Gwen Stacy was killed. That...that stuck with me, too..."

Jillian shut the tape recorder off and put her hand on Spider-Man's knee. "What do you admire most about me?" she asked curiously.

He didn't hesitate. "Jillian Finch doesn't kill people."

"And neither do you, Spidey." To change the subject that was leading to an awkward silence, she said, "I can't believe Jameson agreed to this."

"I know. You got me in a private room, all to yourself. You have a cool job."

"Yeah. Not exactly what I thought I'd be doing, but, y'know, it's good. How's Mary Jane?"

Spider-Man swallowed. "Super. Our window's fixed now. You know. The one you jumped out of when Octavius attacked."

Jillian laughed. "Are we still on for the movie tonight?"

Spider-Man nodded and stood up. "Yep. It looks cute. MJ really wanted to see it." He moved towards a window, unlocked it, and opened it up. "Sorry to answer-questions-and-run, but I really should get back out there."

Jillian waved her hand. "Of course. Go do your thing."

Spider-Man nodded and leaped.

It was a few moments before she got up to shut the window. She looked out, seeing Spider-Man's shrinking figure in the distance. She then reached in her back-jean pocket and felt her Diamond mask. She was not a hero, she had told herself this. But she liked having the mask on her. Even without superpowers, she felt...well, powerful. Fearless. She had created Diamond back in her early days of reporting, when she was afraid she'd lose her job because she didn't have a story. Jameson seemed to love the idea that she really was Diamond, though, or so she liked to think.

Jillian took the tape recorder and headed up to the tenth-floor city room and found her desk. Betty Brant, the secretary, was busy on the phone. Billy Walters was chatting with someone Jillian didn't recognize, and Ben Urich was smoking a cigarette and typing away at his computer. Jillian opened up an new document, played back the recording, and thought of her story. She had to hurry, though; when it came to Spider-Man, her boss did not like to be kept waiting.

J. Jonah Jameson was the editor-in-chief of the _Daily Bugle_. He hated Spider-Man with every inch of his soul, and his famous editorials helped smear the Wall-Crawler's name. It did pain Jillian to work for a man that found her good friend to be a liar and a menace, but Peter Parker understood. Heck, he did it too. He was a freelance photographer: and Spider-Man was his secret specialty.

Jillian cleared her throat, took a sip of old, cold coffee, and began to type.


	2. Imploded Possibilities

Jillian downed the last gulps of her stale coffee, collected her papers from the printer, and headed to Mr. Jameson's office. She smiled at Betty Brant, the secretary stationed outside. She smiled back and nodded, her short, bob haircuit bouncing. "Mr. J seemed to be in a pretty good mood this morning--" suddenly there was an outburst of fury from inside the office. Mr. Jameson's voice-- "maybe you'll get lucky."

"Thanks, Betty. Nice shirt!" Jillian smiled as she pulled open the door and stepped inside. The office smelled like mahogany smothered in dust. The walls were lined with framed headlines: the most recent being titled "WHY SPIDER-MAN IS A MENACE: AN EDITORIAL BY J.JONAH JAMESON". She brushed past a filing cabinet and politely placed her papers on her boss' desk. "There you go, sir!"

Mr. Jameson hung up the phone and removed his cigar from his mouth. "It's about time, Finch! I haven't gotten a lot of action from you in a while!"

"Sorry," Jillian shrugged.

Mr. Jameson held the first paper up, read a few beginning lines, and slammed it down on his desk._ "Crap!"_

_"What? How? Why?"_ Jillian said in dismay and confusion. "It's _Spider-Man!"_

_"Exactly!_ We don't run a Spidey Fan-Club! We run a newspaper! All you've been giving me is Spider-Man, Spider-Man, _Spider-Man!_ You're column is not just about_ that_ freak show! It's about _all_ of 'em!" Mr. Jameson took a quick puff on his cigar. "Listen, Finch. You've been loyal to the paper, and I know you've been dying for this job. You had that interview with Iron Man, Captain America, Johnny Storm, even yourself, when you pretended to be a hero just so you had someone to interview. And you're dedicated--especially since when the Sinister Six took over the building and you were a hostage. But I'm thinkin' that maybe this ain't your gig, you know?"

"What do you mean, Mr. Jameson?"

"Kid, I've got people lined up for your position. I'm sure at least one of them has the same skill you _used _to have that made you and your column so amazing."

Jillian nodded, her eyes fogging up with tears. " But, please--give me a little more time? Another chance?"

Mr. Jameson nodded. "Yeah. Okay, Finch. But it's just because you're goin' through a lot. Don't mess this up!"

_"Thank_ you, sir!"

"Now get the hell outta my office!" Jameson stood, pointing to the door.

Jillian followed her orders, her heart pounding. Lose her job at the_ Bugle?_ What would she do then? She loved the paper and what she wrote. It couldn't end so suddenly!

Realizing the time, Jillian grabbed her things and headed down to the movie theater in Times Square. Peter and Mary Jane had invited her along to see Enchanted with them, and Jillian had really wanted to see it as well. It was a long walk, but Jillian covered the distance quickly. She was barley paying attention at all as she sped along the sidewalks. Lose her job? Then what? What would she do? It was a nightmare full of unemployment. Jillian felt the tears come on as she stepped off the curb and into the street. She heard a car horn, she saw headlights, and she closed her eyes and screamed. But suddenly her body was jerked upwards. She opened her eyes, and she was in Spider-Man's arms.

_"Jeez_, lady. Didn't your parents ever tell you to look both ways?"

Jillian smiled. "Hey, Peter."

His head spun around to look at her. "What the--_Jillian?!"_ He landed, putting her on the ground safely. "Jillian, you were almost hit--by---by a _car!_ Watch yourself, Finch!"

"Sorry Spidey. Thanks. You...literally saved my life again."

"I might as well give you a ride. MJ picked up our tickets already."

"Thanks, Spider-Man." Jillian smiled. She jumped back into the hero's arms and felt the rush of web-swinging once again. She saw the people below pointing and screaming, but she tried to just focus on the man carrying her. Spider-Man. She was friends with Spider-Man. How amazing was that?

Spider-Man dropped her off a block away from the theater, and as she walked through the double doors Peter and Mary Jane were sitting on a bench inside. Jillian's face was still red and her eyes were puffy. Mary Jane hugged her hello, and then asked, "What's wrong, Jill?"

"I saw her almost get hit by a car. But Spidey got to her," Peter smiled, hugging her hello as well.

"Yeah, but that's not it, Pete--"

"Oh. I know."

Jillian shook her head.

"Jillian, I don't need to be a superhero to figure out what you're going through. You're living with your parents again, the Sinister Six attacked your family. It takes a lot out of people."

"No, Peter. Mr. Jameson told me I might get fired."

_"Fired? What?_ He can't_ do_ that!"

She nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "Apparently all my articles are about Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Spider-Man, and he wants more of a variety."

Peter hugged her again. "I'm sorry, Jillian. I'll try to help you out, really, I will."

She nodded. "But enough about me, huh? Let's go see that movie!" And as they walked deeper to get their seats, they heard screams and suddenly a wall imploded.


	3. On The Prowl

"What the_ hell_ was that?"Jillian said, ducking behind a trash can. Peter was holding a shaking Mary Jane, but his eyes were fixed on the cause of the chaos. Out from the debris came Rhino. He wore his gray, pelted armor suit and was being chased by the Fantastic Four. Peter looked at the theater they had just destroyed. "Aw, come on! That was our movie!" He shouted.

_"Peter!"_ Jillian cried.

He nodded, ushered Mary Jane over to where Jillian was crouched, and left the scene (no doubt to change into his red and blue tights). Jillian watched as Rhino picked up a glass filled with popcorn and smashed it against the Thing's head. Mr. Fantastic stretched out his hand to try and trip the giant mook, but his attempt failed. The Human Torch was trying to melt the armor, and the Invisible Woman was living up to her name.

A stray fireball aimed right at the two girls, and Mary Jane pulled Jillian from harm's way as their cover had been caught on fire. The two girls sat in the middle of the battle field, in awe over the sight. Suddenly Rhino came storming their way, and the two thought they were roadkill. But they were jerked sideways, away from harm, from a sticky webline._ "Spider-Man!"_ Jillian screamed out in joy. "Second time your boyfriend saved my ass today," Jillian noted to Mary Jane.

_"Look out!"_ Mary Jane said as she and Jillian rushed away from Rhino. He was currently taking punches from the Thing. Mary Jane and Jillian jumped over the counter and into the concession stand (which was now missing its popcorn machine). They ducked and could only hear the racket that was going on. Jillian poked her head up for a second, and then screamed as another fireball aimed at her head. She dropped to the ground, but not quick enough, as Mary Jane screamed for her and tried to pat the flames down.

There was one last crashing sound, and then all else stopped. Mary Jane poked her head out this time, to see Rhino wrapped in Mr. Fantastic's flexible arms. Jillian and Mary Jane rushed over to Spider-Man, Jillian still holding her smoldering hair.

"Spider-Man, thanks. I owe you again," Jillian said.

"You kids okay?" The Thing asked.

"Yeah," Mary Jane said.

"Although my hair is _still_ burning."

The now-visible Invisible Woman put her hands on her hips and looked at her younger brother. The Human Torch's mouth hung wide. "Why does everyone blame _me _when something catches on fire?!"

"Hey, Ben, you got a minute?" Spider-Man asked. The Thing nodded, moving closer.

"Rocky, this here is_ the_ Jillian Finch. The reporter for the _Bugle?"_

"The one you hated because she tricked you into interviews?"

"Yeah. But--uh--_anyway_, would you mind answering a few questions? Y'know...for fun?"

"For _fun?"_

"Just answer the questions, Ben!" Spider-Man laughed, leaving the two alone.

Jillian already had her tape recorder out in her hand. "Jeez, lady. Where do you keep that thing?"

"Mr. Grimm, that fight with Rhino was really something. How did you manage it?"

"Well...he's dumb, so it was kinda easy. I clobbered 'im in the head and he went out like a light."

"Do you think that the Fantastic Four has a good system?" Jillian asked, the questions popping off the top of her head.

"Of crime fightin'?_ 'Course_, yeah." the Thing smiled.

"Describe your relationship with Johnny Storm."

"No words can describe it, honey. That Matchstick is one piece 'a work."

"And, Mr. Grimm, do you--"

"Hey, Ben! Come on, time to go!" Said a waving Human Torch, his body engulfed in flame. The Thing said farewell to Jillian and went off with his team. Jillian looked down at her tape recorder. "Thanks, Spidey. Hopefully this will--huh? Spidey? MJ?" Jillian said, looking around. She was all alone. "Oh, that's nice! _Real nice!"_ she shouted, thinking her friends left her.

"No, Jillian! I found Peter. He was hiding in the bathroom."

"Oh, hey Peter! Thanks for making sure we were okay, huh?" Jillian said, poking fun.

"What's that?" Peter asked, pointing to the tape recorder.

"This baby? It's a little interview with the Thing! Remind me to thank Spidey, okay?"

Peter nodded. "So...I guess the movie's off. Who wants to go to Blockbuster?"

"Sorry. I want to get this into Jameson pronto. It could save my job."

Mary Jane nodded as they left the theater. "See you, Jillian!"

Jillian smiled as she strutted the streets. Her job could be saved, as long as she kept the interviews coming. And with a superhero for a best friend, that was easier than it seemed.

Jillian cut across a back-alley, which she knew would save her at least five blocks as she headed to her parent's house. The neighborhood was cute and quiet, reminding Jillian of her young, carefree days. She looked up at the sky, breathing in the city air, when something caught her eye. There was someone on the rooftop of the Macmongie's house, the elderly neighbors. The person was dressed in black and was carrying a bag...it was a burglary! Jillian quickly put her recorder in her pocket and went to climb the fire ladder to get to the roof. Whoever was robbing the place had another thing coming!

Jillian reached the rooftop, unsure of what to do. So she pulled out her tape recorder, held it like a gun, and in the darkness yelled, "freeze!" She was sure to press the 'record' button, just in case.

The burglar turned around, smiling. It was a woman dressed in black leather, with white hair and a mask. "Easy there, hot shot," she said cooly.

"Put the bag down."

"I don't think so."

"Don't make me shoot!"

"Oh, shoot what? You're not fooling anyone, you know."

Jillian lowered her pretend-weapon. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Black Cat. And I just crossed your path." With a grin and a wave, she jumped off the rooftop. Jillian went to go after her, but couldn't find her anywhere. She disappeared. The conversation fresh in her mind, she headed back to her house and hoped that her computer was still on.


	4. An Interesting Morning

Jillian was typing away at her keyboard while she held the phone against her ear with her shoulder. It had been her instinct to call Peter.

"Yeah, I told you. The Black Cat."

"Never heard of her. Dangerous?"

"Crazy, more like, " Jillian said, finishing a sentence. "No weapons. On the worst-dressed list, like yourself. I'd say she's got powers. And she looks like a slut."

"What?"

"Just saying. Her outfit is...revealing."

_"Where?"_

_"Peter!"_ Jillian laughed. "I got a few words with her, like I said. I think this could be the one to save my job!"

"That's great, Finch. But this Cat person--someone to worry about?"

"I honestly don't know. She may be just a petty thief...or she could be on to bigger and 'better' things. I'd keep an eye out just in case."

"Right. Thanks a lot, Jillian. I will. And I--oh snap!" The background from Peter's line of the phone was filled with sirens.

"Go ahead," Jillian told him. "Do your thing."

"Thanks. See you at work!" Peter told her, as he hung up the phone. Jillian imagined him ripping off his clothes and jumping out the window in his Spidey-threads. She looked on her desk to see her Diamond mask sitting there, almost waiting for her. It had been fun to play dress-up for a while, but Jillian was grown and beyond that. She was a reporter. And she was doing just that at the moment--reporting.

She printed out both the Ben Grimm and Black Cat interview. While she waited for her out-of-date printer to catch up, she went inside the kitchen of her parent's apartment. Her younger brother was sitting at the table, mushing around his oatmeal, his face in utter disgust. "Do I have to eat this?" he asked as Jillian grabbed an apple.

She shrugged. "I guess you should. It looks...interesting."

He slammed his spoon down on the table. "The word 'interesting' should _not_ be used to describe food!"

Jillian laughed, walked past and ruffled his hair, and grabbed her files from the printer as it finished the last page. She looked around for an envelope to put them in. There were none left but ones from a bank. So she opened it up and popped them inside. "I'm going off to work--"

"If you see Spider-Man again, can you say hi for me?" her brother asked with excitement.

Jillian nodded. He always asked her that after she told him a story involving a super hero. "Of course I will. I'll see you later." And she walked out the door.

The one thing Jillian didn't like about the city--or the north in general--was the cold. It was freezing outside, and her jacket was barely enough to keep her from running back inside and triple-layering herself with clothes. But she braved the weather and started her walk to the _Bugle,_ her bare hands holding the banking envelope. The wind blew her hair in front of her face, wiping her soft skin. She could imagine how red her nose, ears and cheeks were getting.

She turned the corner and headed down the same route she always did. She bumped into a man, apologize, and spun around. At that moment, the envelope was ripped from her hands. The man probably though the banking envelope had money inside it, and he darted with it under his arm down the street. "My job's in that envelope!" Jillian gasped. _"Hey! Stop!" _She cried, chasing after him. She was not far behind him, but his speed was much greater than hers--especially since she was in heels. _"Help! Someone! He stole my envelope!"_

The robber turned a corner, heading into an alley. He hopped a fence, which Jillian hadn't even been able to do at the age of twelve. She stood on the other side of the fence, calling after him. _"Please! There's no money in it!"_

The man turned around, shook the folder tauntingly, and headed back on his way leisurely. Suddenly a black flash knocked the man down, and he was thrown into the wall. Jillian peered through the holes in the fence and saw that it was that Black Cat lady. She bent down promiscuously, grabbing the envelope. She leaped over the fence easily and presented Jillian with the envelope. Recognizing her, she smiled. "You again?"

Jillian took the envelope. "Wow. Robbing a place, now stopping muggers...you are one complicated kitty. Thanks...I think."

"Wait a minute...I know you, don't I? You're Jillian Finch! From the _Bugle!"_

"Who wants to know?"

She smiled from under her mask. "You have connections with Spider-Man."

Thinking of Peter's safety, she shook her head. "Sorry. I know him, but 'connections' is not the word I would use. Hey...are you dangerous? Should I be afraid of you?" Jillian asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Black Cat nodded. "Hold that thing tighter next time."

Jillian nodded. "Yeah. No kidding."

The Cat jumped onto a wall, leaped the gap between the two buildings onto the other one diagonally, and made one last jump across before she reached the roof. "Wow. I just had a conversation with the crazy cat lady," Jillian said to herself. "Interesting morning."

And she walked out of the alleyway and towards the _Bugle _as if nothing ever happened, though her heart was still racing.


	5. Taking A Drag

On a typical day, Jillian took her time entering her workplace. She got a cup of coffee, had a short conversation with someone close by, and then went to her desk, rarely even glancing at her boss' office. But today Jillian practically tripped over her own two feet, the folder in hand, banging down Jameson's door.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Finch? I'm on the phone with my wife!" Mr. Jameson exclaimed, sitting behind his cluttered desk.

"You never care if your wife calls!"

"Good point." He hung up the phone. "What's so urgent that you had to come running in here?"

Jillian handed him the folder. "The interview that could save my job, sir."

Jameson opened it from his chair. "The Thing?"

"No. The Black Cat."

"Who the hell is that?" Jameson asked.

"Exactly. Can you say..._exclusive?" _Jillian smiled as she saw Jameson's eyes widen as he read the interview. "A new freak out there? Really?"

"And I just saw her today, actually. She saved my folder--I was sorta mugged. But I'm fine and all."

Jameson slammed his hand down on his desk. "Get me more on this Cat lady, Finch! This just might be front-page stuff if I can get more dirt on her!"

Jillian, not hiding the smile on her face, she practically danced out of the office. Peter, who was chatting with fellow aspiring photographer Billy Walters, noticed her good mood. "Hey, Finch."

"I just handed in my interview with the Black Cat. Jameson said that if I get more info it might make the front page! Gosh, this is great!" Jillian smiled.

Peter stepped away from Walters. "You need any help?"

Jillian smiled evily. "Whos' offering?" She walked to the back of the room and sat on her desk, starting to type. Peter followed her and leaned his arms on the computer monitor. "So...Finch, this Cat lady...good or bad? I mean, should I be worried?"

"I don't know, Pete. She robbed a house, but stopped my mugger. Does that sound normal?"

"No," he said. "Sounds like Miss I-Have-Nine-Lives has a case of the crazies. But I figured since JJ gave you Cat to work on, I could benefit too. I mean, I kinda need know. I have the whole 'superhero thing' going on, and part of that is to check out any new kids on the block."

Jillian looked up from her monitor. "What do you want me to do, invite her over for coffee and Pictionary?"

"If you're into that sort of thing," he joked. "But if you find out anything...lemme know?"

"Of course," Jillian replied. Peter left her alone, and she started to type. She searched for information, but it seemed the Black Cat liked to be descrete. Jillian sighed after surfing the web for an hour. "What are you up to, Cat?"

"Want a smoke?" Ben Urich said, hearing Jillian's fustration. The fellow reporter stank of cigarettes, and rarely offered them to anyone. Jillian just took it for no reason, thanking him. "I've been writing about a string of robberies recently. Maybe your superhuman has somethin' to do with it."

"Oh really?" Jillian asked.

Ben nodded, his dirty long hair swaying. "All had one thing in common: point of entry."

Jillan opened up a search page. She Googled the robberies Ben had just informed her about, and he was right. The theif cut a hole in the glass windows of a ceiling, making off with jewels and gems from all over. Maybe this Cat lady had some connection--after all, both were pretty recent. Jillain, needing time to think, borrowed Ben's lighter and decided, what the hell?, and went to the roof to take a drag.

Jillian leaned on the exterior of the stairwell, the night New York wind brushing against her skin. Being her first cigarette, Jillian coughed and choked, but ultimately got the hang of it. She looked up at the sky, then at the surrounding buildings. She squinted, seeing some sort of dark figure approaching. Jillian ducked, moving to the other side of the stiarwell wall where she was not visible, and watched as the Black Cat landed on the roof of the _Daily Bugle_. She was holding a brown sack, and she rummaged her hand inside it and pulled out a sparkling diamond.

"I'm guessing you're trying out rocks for your wedding ring, huh, Cat?" said a familiar voice. It was Spider-Man. He'd found her.

The Cat plopped the diamond in her bag and held it behind her back. "Spider-Man. I've always wondered if you looked cuter in person."

"Well, the camera does add ten pounds. But we can talk later. Why don't you hand me the bag?"

"Sorry, Spider. No can do." She said. Jillian shook her head as she watched the Cat. Was she...flirting?

"You still have a chance to walk away here. Give me the bag."

The Cat smiled devilshly, walking closer. She stroked Spider-Man's cheek with her gloved hand. "It was nice meeting you, Spider." She said, and she jumped off the edge of the building. "What the--" Spider-Man said, spinning around and looking over the roof to watch. "Hey! Wait! Will I ever see you again?" He called back. Jillian cleared her throat and walked out. "Spider-Man."

"Jillian! What are--are you smoking?"

She ignored the question. "You let her get away."

"No, I--"

"Yes you did, Peter! You could have easily stopped her, and don't you deny it. Just because your Cat Lady knows how to flirt doesn't make her any less of a criminal. She had a _bag_ full of _diamonds!"_

"Jillian--"

Jillian threw her cigarette on the ground, stepped on it, and walked back inside, leaving the hero alone on the rooftop.


	6. Alley Cat

Mary Jane Watson's nose was almost as red as her hair. Waiting outside in the cold will do that to you. When she finally saw Jillian, she smiled and waved, secretly hating her for making her wait outside so long.

"You know, when you say "let's meet outside Gino's at three" from now on, I'll know you really mean "you meet outside Gino's at three, but I'll be a half an hour late!""

"Sorry, MJ," Jillian said as they entered the restaurant. They were seated right away, as Mary Jane had left her name down on the list. Jillian, as soon as the waiter left them, leaned over the table to Mary Jane's side. "Something happened today."

"What?"

"Did Peter tell you about the Black Cat?"

Mary Jane shook her head. "No. Never heard of her. Why?"

"I was outside on the roof today, and I saw her. She's this superhuman, I think, who both steals things and helps people. But, anyway, she had a bag full of stolen diamonds with her and when Spider-Man showed up, he let her go."

Mary Jane's face was in a state of pure confusion. "That doesn't sound like him at all."

"That's because this Cat lady flirted her way past him."

"What?"

Jillian realized what she had said. "No, it was nothing like that! Nothing serious! But I thought you should know, y'know?"

Mary Jane smiled as the waiter served them their drinks. She took a sip of her soda. "Yeah, thanks. That is really...not like him."

Jillian nodded. "I know."

After a while of chit-chat, and as their food arrived, Mary Jane remembered, "Oh! Your job! Is everything okay?"

"Actually," Jillian said, pulling her fork from her mouth, "This Cat lady is my big assignment. So if I get any dirt, I'll be sure to pass it along."

"Thanks. I wouldn't want Spider-Man to be flirting with some tramp." Mary Jane said. Jillian watched as she took her anger out on her chicken, as she sliced it savagely. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"No, I'm glad you did."

"Really? I mean, it's nothing! He wasn't flirting back...it's just...I don't trust this Cat person."

Mary Jane bit her lip. "I could really go for a smoke."

"You smoke?"

She nodded. "It's a stress thing. Dating Peter is not easy, especially when I have to watch the news to make sure he's alive."

Jillian watched as she pulled a carton of cigarettes out of her purse. "Mind if I have one?" she asked.

Mary Jane was surprised. "You smoke?"

She shrugged. "Just started."

"Why?"

"It's a 'stress thing,'" she said, copying Mary Jane's answer. Mary Jane nodded, and they both quickly left a fifty out on the table. "The food's no good here, anyway," she laughed. They exited the restaurant and stood on the corner, where they each started a fresh cigarette. Jillian, still unsure of the posture one took when smoking, watched and observed Mary Jane. Jillian coughed, and Mary Jane asked, "Are you sure you want to start? It's not the best habit."

She nodded. "Yeah, I do. I'm just under a lot of stress right now. My job's at risk, I live with my parents, this Cat lady's running around the city..."

"Yeah, well--hey, isn't that Johnny Storm?" Mary Jane pointed, and sure enough, Johnny Storm of the Fantastic Four was strutting down the sidewalk. Jillian smiled and said, "Hey, Matchstick!" as he passed. He eyed her, then stopped and looked. "Hey, you're Jillian Finch. Yeah, I remember you!"

"Nice to see you again. You remember Mary Jane Watson? She was at the movie theater with me when Rhino attacked."

Johnny smiled at her, then looked at Jillian. "I remember you from way back when, when you pretended to brake your leg so I'd carry you home and give you enough info about me for you to sneak in a little interview."

Jillian smiled. "I would say 'I'm sorry', but I'm really not. Besides, I'm a reporter. Aren't they supposed to be sleasy?"

Johnny laughed. He pointed at the cigarette. "You smoke?"

"You care?"

He laughed. "I'll see you girls around," Johnny said, and he waved and continued on his way. Jillian looked at Mary Jane. "Why does everyone care that I started smoking? I mean, really, is it_ that_ big a deal? Did everyone breathe down _your _neck when you started?"

Mary Jane shrugged and put it out by stepping on it. "Whatever. Ignore it. Smoke if you want to."

Jillian nodded and did the same, trying to copy Mary Jane's movements so she didn't look like such a rookie. "Right, well, I better head back to work."

"Yeah. I have a few scripts I need to look at. Before you make a big acting role, you gotta humiliate yourself a little bit."

"That bad?"

"That bad," Mary Jane nodded, remembering some of the scripts she had been forced to read.

"Well, if I get any info of Cat Lady, I'll ring you up."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, Jillian! See you around!" And the two girls parted ways, Jillian headed towards the _Bugle. _She looked at her watch, and knowing she'd be late, took a shortcut--which, by now, she should have learned _not_ to do--down an alleyway. She walked about two blocks, then passed a dumpster. And out of the dumpster, suddenly, emerged a black-suited figure. It grabbed Jillian and threw her inside along with it. It was the Black Cat.

"What the_ hell_ are you _doing?_" Jillian shouted.

"I could ask you the same question," the Cat said.

"So you had to ask me in a _dumpster?_ Get me the_ hell_ out of this thing! It _stinks_ in here!" Jillian stood and pushed the top lid off, jumping out. She brushed herself off, disgusted. "You are weird, lady," Jillian said.

"I saw you on that rooftop, when I was with Spider-Man."

Jillian raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about."

"I can't have reporter on my tail, can I? So back off."

Jillian threw her hands up in a peaceful, disarming manner. "Hey, easy. I don't have it out for you."

"Then stop writing about me, Finch."

"Listen, I'm this close"--she measured with her thumb and pointer finger, showing the small space in between--"to getting my ass fired. My boss told me to cover your story. It's my job. It's not like I want to."

"And you...you have connections with Spider-Man." The Black Cat thought.

"No, like I said, I don't. I kinda know the guy, but--"

She held her hand up. "I could use you, couldn't I? To get to the Wall Crawler."

"Why would you want to? Listen, just go and do your thing--rob a few houses, what have you?--and I am gonna go this way, back to work."

The Black Cat nodded, putting one hand on her hips, and allowed her to go. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, Jillian Finch!"

Afraid to oppose the crazy Cat woman, Jillian turned around and rolled her eyes, starting to walk._ "Greeeaat,"_ she moaned.


	7. Around The Television

"She wants to use _you_ to get to_ me?"_ Peter's voice showed his confusion. His voice was low, as Jillian had ran to get him and had clearly forgotten that his secret identity was supposed to remain a secret.

Jillian, who was not completely happy with her friend since that night on the _Bugle_ roof, nodded. "And she doesn't want me writing about her. Do you think I should I clear out my desk now?"

"Easy Jillian," Peter put a hand on her shoulder. "Jameson will think of something. The man always does. Thanks for telling me."

Jillian nodded. She looked at Jameson through his office window. She was not looking forward to it, but she had to tell her boss that the Black Cat didn't want her writing about her, and Jillian wasn't about to mess with a crazy lady who dresses in black leather.

Jillian waited for Betty Brant to give her the okay to go inside, which she did confidently.

"This better be good, Finch. I have a scheduled--"

"Mr. Jameson, I met with the Black Cat again. She followed me and told me that she doesn't want a reporter writing about her."

Jameson stood from his chair and walked away from his desk. "You spoke with her again?"

Jillian nodded and coughed. "Yep. And she told me that, plus she'll be watching me. What would you like me to do, sir?"

Jameson lit a cigar. Jillian was tempted to ask for one. "Keep writing, of course! This crazy Cat person can't just tell you not to write about her. Freedom of Speech, Finch! Our best friend. Is that all you needed to tell me?"

Jillian nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Well, that's three minutes of my life I'll never get back. Go do something useful!"

Jillian, who got thrown out of her boss' office often, complied with his wishes. But it still urked her...she didn't want to write about the Black Cat. The woman hid in a dumpster--what else was she cabable of? When Jillian exited, she saw a crowd of people hovering by the television. She titled her head and watched. The scene was an average city block...but something wasn't quite right. Suddenly the ground shook, and the_ Bugle_ employees watched a bomb explode on live television. The reporter was thrown forwards, and suddenly the signal went blank. Jillian, quick on her feet, raced down the hall, screaming,_ "Peter!"_

"What is it?" He asked calmly, his face asking, 'why the heck are you running?'

"Peter, a bomb just went off!"

_"Where?" _His tone instantly changed.

"I dunno! It was on television! I--" Jillian was left alone then, as Peter ran for the stairwell. She followed, huffing and puffing as they elevated. Jillian threw the access door open, reaching the rooftop seconds after Peter. He was already in his costume. He pushed his clothes into her hands. "Thanks, Finch," he said, and then he dove off the rooftop. Jillian watched the red blur race into the city, towards the smoke that was visible from the rooftop. Jillian dropped the clothes, reached through her purse, and lit a cigarette. The snow falling and coating her did not bother her. She watched the smoke leave her lips, and she thought about all the people that could be dead.

"No connections with the Wall Crawler, huh?"

Jillian spun around. It was the Black Cat. She was sitting on top of the access stairwell. Jillian dropped her cigarette. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I--"

"You...you _maniac! _Are you_ that _desperate to get to Spider-Man? _That desperate?!"_ Jillian was shouting now.

"What are--"

"Go to hell, _go to hell!"_

The Cat jumped down. "Easy there, reporter girl. What are you yelling about?"

"You set off that bomb...so that you could see Spider-Man. _Oh, don't give me that look! I know it was you! You crazy, insane--gah!"_ Jillian rummaged through her purse again and got out her cell phone. She quickly dialed, and said, "Yes, get me the police!" But it was a wasted effort. The Cat was long gone.

**_A/N: Thank you for sticking with the story! Now, a lot of people are concerned that Jillian has started smoking. She is under a lot of stress--in the second story the Sinister Six attacked her and burned down her apartment complex, so now she is living with her parents. Her job, which was her dream since the first story, now may be taken from her. And not to mention the Black Cat, who is constantly hanging around her mind. I apologize if Jillian smoking bothers anyone, I really am. But Jillian's character is going through a heck of a lot--even in the chapters to come. _**


	8. At The Scene

The police had arrived very quickly. Jillian's tear-stained face and shaking voice were enough to convince the officers that she was telling the truth about this mysterious 'Black Cat' person. Jillian repeated her story again. "I was on the roof...smoking a cigarette"--saying that she had been smoking made her feel odd, ashamed almost.--"...and Spider-Man was there. I told him about the explosion.

"And I take it he headed right to the scene of the explosion?" One officer asked.

"Yes," Jillian said. "And I turn around and there...there she is!"

"And she had approached you about 'getting' to Spider-Man previously?"

Jillian nodded.

"Thank you, Miss Finch. We'll be on the lookout for her. We can't really pin the explosion on this Black Cat lady, but if there is enough evidence to support it--"

"Thank you, officers!" Jameson interrupted. "Parker! Where is Parker when I need him?! You! Walters! You don't hang a camera around your neck for nothing! Start taking photos! Action at the _Bugle!_ This could be front-page stuff!" And as he got odd looks from the officers, Jameson said, "And, uh, Finch! Good job, very...responsible. Urich! Yes, you! Stop what you're doing and sum this up for the paper!"

Ben Urich approached Jillian. He stank of cigarettes more than anyone she knew. "So...Black Cat? What does she look like?"

"Tight black leather. Light hair. A mask that kinda reminds me of Zorro, in a weird way..."

He smiled. "Thanks, Jillian. Hey...have you seen Peter around?"

She shook her head. "I think he's out with Mary Jane."

He laughed. "Sure he is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"I think you know. It's kind of a coincidence, no? Peter is very dedicated to his work. He follows Spider-Man everywhere. Yet...I never see the two at the same time."

"Spider-Man's not easy to come by, you know. And Peter has a life. He doesn't hang around here all day, like you." Jillian said. Ben just smiled and walked away. She was sweating. _Does he know? He must...and...how does he know that I know? _Jillian's head was spinning._ Does Peter know about this? _

Jillian rushed over to the television. People were still watching the explosion. Spider-Man was there, along with the Fantastic Four and Daredevil, which was a rare sight. And she watched Spider-Man...but she could see Peter's face under his mask. Was he okay? He seemed tense...scared. What had caused the explosion? The reporter on the scene revealed that at least five were dead. Jameson had already sent a team out to the scene, but Jillian decided to take a trip down there herself. She exited the building after a long elevator ride and started walking, having no money for a cab. The smoke was visible from where she was, and many people were running the other way and screaming. Someone beside her pointed, and Iron Man was seen flying overhead. Jillian chased after him, screaming, _"Stark! Stark! Stop! Stop! It's me!" _Iron Man had glanced in her direction and finally recognized her. "Miss Finch! I haven't seen you since our interview!"

"Mr. Stark! Please, can you take me to the explosion?"

"What? Why would you want to go there?"

_"Please,_ Iron Man. I'm a reporter. I _need_ to be there." She held her purse tightly under her arm.

"It's about Spider-Man, _isn't it?"_

"Maybe."

"Fine." he extended a hand, which Jillian grasped. He pulled her up and held her to his chest. Jillian had always been fascinated at how the Iron Man suit worked. She remembered, back in the day, interviewing him and asking him all these questions. She had that copy of the paper saved somewhere.

With Iron Man's speed, they had reached the scene in no time. Jillian was dropped off one block ahead, since the explosion was too dangerous for civilians to be around. She looked at the crumbling building, which was flaming and screaming. She saw Spider-Man jump through a window, and she thought, _God, Peter. Don't be a hero, please. Make sure you save yourself._

Jillian, trying to get a better vantage point, looked around at rooftops for a ladder or something in that nature. That was when she spied the Black Cat, and she started fuming. Jillian marched over to the fire escape ladder and climbed up to the rooftop. Her face was red. "How dare you come here."

The Black Cat turned around, offended. "Excuse me? I didn't do this, Finch. And you are _crazy_ to think I did!"

"Good luck explaining that to the jury, Cat. The police are pinning this on you!"

"Thanks to _you._ Look, I had _nothing_ to do with this, okay?"

"You know what? I think I finally understand something. Mr. Jameson hates Spider-Man. Writes about him in his opinionated, one-sided editorials. And I never understood why until now. You are my assignment, Cat. And there is no way I am playing the innocent card with you!"

"So you are comparing me to Spider-Man?"

"No! Spider-Man_ is _good, he _is_ what he says he is. But you...man, Jameson would have a ball with you, lady."

The Cat's fists were tense and clenched. Jillian stood, triumphantly. "You're pathetic."

Suddenly the Black Cat pounced at her, tackling her and knocking both of them off the rooftop. Jillian could almost hear the Black Cat's mocking thoughts, _It's a good thing cats always land on their feet._

Jillian wondered if she could survive the fall. She didn't think so. But before her thoughts could be proven, Spider-Man leaped to catch her. There was no room to spin a webline in the alleyway, so he landed with his back protecting her as they rolled. Jillian was unharmed, and Spider-Man was a little battered at least. Jillian pointed at the Black Cat, who was standing and staring at then. "You almost killed me! You monster!"

The Cat leaped out of the way, with Spider-Man shouting after her. "Wait! Cat!"

Jillian brushed herself off. "Go find her and beat the living crap out of her!"

"Huh?"

"She tired to kill me!"

"Finch..."

Jillian stared blankly. Spider-Man shrugged. "I see the good in her, Finch. She's not a bad person. She's been through a lot."

"What are you..."

"I met her a while ago. She was trying to break her father out of prison."

"And that's _good?" _Jillian asked.

"He died."

"I don't care. I don't trust her, and neither should you!" She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a cigarette. Almost as soon as she lit it Spider-Man pulled it from her lips. He threw it on the ground and crushed it with his foot. "Hey! What--"

"Jillian, don't even tell me you picked up smoking as a regular habit. Why can't you bite your nails or something?"

"It's none of your business. It's no big deal. Mary Jane--"

"I've been trying to get her to stop forever! Jillian, smoking is not the answer to whatever you're dealing with. Promise me you won't smoke. It can kill you!"

"And so could the Black Cat, but you're not worried about _her."_

"Jillian, come on. That's not fair."

"Neither is life," she said, and started to walk.


	9. Night At The Museum

A year ago, Jillian never would have imagined that she would be a lonely woman on a street corner smoking a cigarette. She had taken a long walk to try and clear her head, ending up near Central Park and directly across the street from the Museum of Natural History. She watched the people climb the stairs as they entered and those making their descent, having filled their brains with knowledge and fun facts the museum held within its walls.

She pulled the cigarette from between her lips and held it before her. The smoke didn't bother her as it had earlier. She analyzed it, thinking. _"I heard you're sick--sucked on that cancer stick..." _Jillian ignored the words singing in her head and continued smoking. She could almost feel the smoke blacking her lungs, sucking the life out of her. She shivered and flicked it to the ground underneath the lamppost. It was getting dark out. She loved the city at night. The lights shone, the cars still sat in traffic, and it seemed like it was magic that brought it all together.

Jillian crossed the street, deciding to get out of the cold, and entered the museum. As soon as she entered she was greeted by a tremendous fossilized skeleton of a tyrannosaurus rex. Jillian whistled. Jeez, that was high. Jillian looked around the entrance hall when a woman approached her. "Sorry, we're closing."

"Oh. Fine," Jillian said. She took another look at the fossil. She nodded, smiling, and made her way. She was a few feet from the door when suddenly there was an alarm.

People screamed and ran, as was natural, for the door. Big, loud noises do that. Jillian reacted differently, and ran to the front desk to ask what was going on, as was the instinct of a good reporter. The woman at the desk looked Jillian in the eyes, unsure of how to explain it. But she just came out with the truth, "We've been robbed!"

_"Robbed?_ What's been stolen?"

"The Patricia Emerald! It was just stolen! The building is on lock down!"

Jillian pondered. A robbery? While the museum was still open? That was odd--not good tactics at all. Jillian sneaked past security in the mob and made her way towards the Human Biology and Evolution area. From there she headed around the corner to the Halls of Minerals and Gems, from where the emerald was stolen. Jillian found its display case easily, as it was the one with smashed glass.

The stone was a 632 carat emerald and was considered to be one of the world's most fabulous. The Patricia was one of the few, large, gem quality emeralds that had its 12 sides remained uncut. It didn't seem like a priceless stone, but its value was most definitely understood. She looked down at the floor suddenly noticed heavy boot prints. They were unseen, until the light hit them in a certain way. Afraid of being caught at the scene of a robbery, which would _not _look good, she headed up the stairs and followed the prints.

_It must be the Cat,_ Jillian thought. _That crazy Cat lady! I'm going to bring her down!_

Jillian had to way from side to side for the lighting to be just right to reveal the prints. They were almost impossible to see on the stairs. But Jillian followed the trail, her mind thinking of what to say once she caught the Cat with the emerald. The tracks lead her to the access stairs to the roof, and Jillian didn't even hesitate about throwing the door open.

There was a man on the rooftop. It wasn't the Black Cat, to Jillian's dissapointment. He was dressed in all black, talking on his cell phone. "Yeah, Fisk. I'm looking right at it. Shiny little rock, ain't it? Yes sir, Mr. King Pin."

Jillian gasped. _King Pin? The King Pin ordered the robbery? _Gasping was not such a wise idea, as the man spun around to look at her. Jillian froze."I--I--I just came out here for a smoke," she stammered. The man was wearing night vision goggles and all sorts of odd-looking gear on him. He smiled. "Sure you are," he said. Jillian saw the man move with great speed. When she fell to the floor, she didn't even know what hit her. But she had a pretty good idea.

**_A/N:Happy Holidays, Everyone! _**


	10. Connections

When Jillian awoke, she instantly felt the pain rush to her head. She moaned, propping herself up with her elbow. She had been laying down on a somewhat uncomfortable red couch. The room she was in was accented with rich, dark mahogany and curtains that matched the couch. She stood up and moved over to a roll-top desk, which had peaked her curiosity since she spied it. She picked up an old photograph and suddenly remembered everything, as the man in the photo was a large, white male who was the notorious Wilson Fisk.

A door opened on the far side of the room, and a man wearing a black suited entered. "Miss Finch, if you'd please come with me," he said. Jillian was about to ask the man what the hell was going on when she noticed a gun tucked in his belt. She swallowed and followed the man without opposition.

The long hallway with crown molding led to a large, white double-doored study. The man knocked and was allowed entrance by a voice inside. Jillian made her way into the room and saw Fisk sitting behind a desk. The first thing Jillian thought was _Wow, he's big. _And he was, indeed, a very large man. He was wearing a white suit with a pink tie. There was no reflection off his bald head, as the room was not lit by any light other than what came from the windows. Fisk smiled and nodded, telling Jillian to sit down in a chair before the desk. She did so quickly. She wondered if he had a gun as well, or if he could just crush her with his large, bare hands.

"I apologize for your head injury, Miss Finch. My hired thief acted irrationally. He is a man of stealth and is not welcome to surprises."

"How do you know who I am?" was Jillian's first question.

"You are very good at what you do, Miss Finch. Very good, indeed. Such work should be recognized and suitably rewarded."

"Well, thank you. But I doubt my career in journalism has any relevance as to why I'm here. I do not know who your man was, and I don't really care. I just want to leave."

Fisk smiled. He didn't seem like a bad guy, to be honest. Too bad Jillian knew that being a Kingpin was not a respectable line of work. Or legal. "Unfortunately, I do not wish to allow you to leave just yet. I am in need of your services."

"My services? What do you want me to do? Publish you your own newspaper?"

He laughed. "Undoubtedly you saw that my men carry weapons. So persuasion and motivation should not be a problem. I suppose I am not in need of your services, but rather, your connections."

Jillian sighed. "Why does everybody assume that I have connections?" She asked herself.

"You know the Black Cat."

Jillian was interested. She crossed her legs. "Somewhat. I'm not going to lie to you, Mr. Fisk. I have spoken with her and to be honest I do not like her."

"That is irrelevant. I want her to work for me. She is a skillful thief and possible assassin, if I so train her."

"She's not the type to sell herself, Fisk. Even with a decent amount of money."

Fisk nodded. "Understood. Which is why I hold a bargaining chip, if you would. Her father."

Jillian sat forward in her chair. "Her father is dead."

"Or so I made Spider-Man believe. I know he would pass the message along to our feline friend. She was going to break him out of prison before I did so and held him here. If she cared enough to attempt to break him out of jail, she will care enough to work for me. I only require her services for a short period of time. There are a few items I need to have in my possession. The emerald stolen at the museum was only one of the items, and my hired thief was not as efficient as I had hoped."

Jillian nodded. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Pass along my message. Tell her to come here alone. That is all."

"I can do that. Is that all? Can I go?"

Mr. Fisk stood and so did Jillian. Jillian looked up at him. _He must weigh 500 freaking pounds,_ she thought. "Thank you, Miss Finch. And remember, I know where you, your parents, and your young little brother live if I ever need to get to them."

"I really hate it when people keep tabs on me," she commented. Fisk walked her to the door, and she was escorted out by a different suited man. Jillian started to sweat when she noticed a lot of the men had guns. Almost all the men had guns, actually. Jillian walked down the stairs, wondering if she should buy one for herself. It couldn't hurt to have one. And with all the crap she'd been put through lately, it wasn't really a bad idea.

The outside air tasted so free, and she was thankful Fisk didn't have her shot. He probably was waiting for her to pass along the message. Then he'd shoot her. Yeah, that was probably right. She waited until she was a few blocks away, to see if she was being followed, and she flipped open her cell phone. Peter Parker was on speed dial.


	11. On The Streets

"Jillian, I don't know anyone who gets kidnapped as much as you," Peter Parker said on the other end of the phone line. "Where is that spider-tracer necklace I gave you a while back?"

To be honest, Jillian hadn't even thought of the thing. She had lost it months ago and didn't think twice of it. "Never mind that. Fisk has the Cat's father. What should I do?"

"Tell her, I guess. Breaking him out of whatever prison Fisk has him in would be harder than breaking him out of any New York jail cell."

"Just let it happen? That's what your plan is? Aren't you supposed to jump into action wearing your crazy tights when crap like this happens?"

Peter didn't hesitate in his answer, "You hate the Black Cat! Why are you so concerned?"

Jillian held the phone with her shoulder while she looked through her purse when she stopped at a street corner. She lit herself a cigarette, breathed it in, and then grabbed the phone with her free hand. "I care when people are victimized."

"Yeah, but it's the Cat. The crazy Cat lady!"

"And you're the crazy bug man!" Jillian said. "Her father is an entirely different story. Being forced to do criminal acts because your old man could be killed--"

Peter interrupted, "I get it, Jillian. I'll look for Cat and see what I can do."

"Tha--" Jillian squealed as a man in a suit suddenly pulled the phone from her hands. She looked up at him in fear. He was a tall black man, towering over her. "Who were you talking to, Miss Finch?"

"My--wait, what the heck is this? Who are you?"

"Mr. Fisk," was all the man had to say.

Jillian instantly shut her mouth and swallowed, with the cigarette burning between her fingers. He asked again, "Who was on the phone?"

"My friend Peter," she said. "We were talking about work. He's a coworker. That's it."

The man ended the call, handing the phone back to her. "Mr. Fisk asked me to tell you that you should no longer worry about being in trouble. He always has an eye on you."

Jillian nodded. "G-good to know!" She exclaimed.

"Smoking kills, you know," the man said as he started walking away. She noticed the handgun that was sticking out of his back, held in place by his belt.

"Y-yeah. Not the first time I've been told that..." Jillian said, looking at the gun. Jillian followed the man, looking around to see if any more boys in suits were watching. She wanted that gun to protect herself with, and now with people watching her it was not a bad thing to have. She reached out to cover her forced yawn, and then extended her hand further, like she was stretching. When the man was directly in front of her, she plucked the gun from the man's belt. A woman next to Jillian saw the gun and shouted "gun!" In the confusion the man turned around, but Jillian was already just another face in the crowd. She ran, the handgun already stashed in her purse. She could not believe what she had just done.

Jillian found herself on a bench moments later, breathing deeply. She looked at her purse, imagining the outline of the gun inside it. She had a gun. A gun! Her moment of thought was intruded by her phone ringing. Peter. She did not answer the phone; it was too risky, though stealing a gun wasn't exactly on the safe side either. Jillian was not looking forward to any more visits by tall men in suits. She puffed on her cigarette and realized how much trouble she was in. The King Pin--the Crime Lord, the one who ran crime in all of New York City--was after her. He had so much money he could make anyone disappear. And reporters got hurt in the field all the time. Jillian swallowed again, as all the events unfolding seemed to dry out her throat.

It was past dawn now. Her parents were probably worried. But she was a grown woman--she could stay out late if she wanted to. Not that she wanted to in this particular case. She made her way home, tired and uncaring if she was late to work. She grabbed a taxi and told the driver the address.As she sat in the back seat, her phone started ringing again. She did not recognize the number, and she figured she was safe in a cab.

"Hello?"

Finch!"

"Mister...Jameson?" Jillian asked. "How do you know my number."

"Never mind that, Finch! What kind of reporter are you? The Black Cat is surrounded at the Met!"

Jillian ruffled her brow. "The Metropolitan Museum of Art?"

"She tried stealing a van Gogh! She's threatening to destroy it if anyone goes near her! She didn't think she'd be caught--get over there now!"

"I'm on it, Mr. J!" Jillian hung up her phone. "Change of plans. To the Met!" She said to the driver. He nodded, switched lanes, and quickened his speed when Jillian started yelling.


	12. The Met

Jillian could not remember the last time she had seen so many police cars. Their lights were blinding, and the men and women outside in uniforms seemed to be in panic mode. Some had their hands on their guns, ready for the worst. Jillian had no idea where the Black Cat was, and, most importantly, how she was going to get to her.

She walked up to an officer nonchalantly, trying to overhear what she was saying into her radio. She could barely make out a thing, but she did hear, "second floor", and that was where she was going to go. Jillian Finch cleared her throat and decided to just march inside like she belonged there. She wasn't even half way up the stairs when she was stopped.

A young officer stepped forward. His blue eyes flashed red every few seconds from the lights on the car. He put his hand out to block Jillian. "You're not allowed up here, sorry. We have a--"

"The Black Cat is inside, I know," Jillian interrupted. "And I have spoken with her personally. I think I may be able to help."

"Wait--you're from--"

"The _Bugle,_ yes. Now will you allow me inside or will I have to go around the back? I will get to the Cat either way, I can assure you." Her patience wearing thin, Jillian continued to walk. The young officer walked beside her, as if escorting her. "It's my first week on the force," he told her.

"Well, aren't you lucky to have gotten some action already!"

When they were inside the museum, the officer said, "Stay here. I'm going to go get my supervisor and ask him if you can go up."

Jillian smiled and nodded. As soon as the man had turned his back, Jillian darted down a hallway. She knew the officer would return and tell her she wasn't allowed up, so there was no sense in waiting around.

She headed up the stairway, her heart pounding. She didn't see any officers--they probably had cleared the place to make sure the Black Cat didn't destroy any paintings. Jillian said in a harsh whisper, "Cat? Cat? Where are you?" Jillian had never been to the Met before, despite all the years she lived in the city. It was like a maze, and all the paintings looked the same to her. She never did have an appreciation towards art.

"Cat, come on, before I get caught!"

There was a long pause. "Who's there?"was said finally, as if the person who spoke had been debating whether or not to speak up.

"It's me. Jillian! Jillian Finch." Jillian said, trying to follow the voice.

"Finch? What are you doing here? Helping the cops? I have a knife and I'll rip this thing--"

"No! No, Cat, I'm not working for anyone! Wha--where are you? Come on! This is so important! It's about your father!"

The Black Cat instantly emerged from a back room, holding a painting in one hand a blade with the other. "My father?" She asked. She didn't seem to be that distressed about the situation she was in. Jillian was curious as how that could be.

Jillian nodded. "Cat, he's not dead. The Kingpin has him."

"What?"

Jillian then saw the Cat transform. She no longer seemed like a criminal, but like a scared little girl who wanted her daddy back. "The...the Kingpin?"

Jillian told her, "He wants you to work for him in exchange for your father. He told me to--"

"He told you? You're working for him?" She said loudly, approaching Jillian with the blade extended, pointing at her neck.

Jillian backed away until she was against the wall. "No! He kidnapped me and told me to tell you! I--put that damn knife down!" Jillian said, pushing the blade away. "Listen to me. He said he needs you to steal a few things for him, that is all I know, I swear."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Cat asked.

Jillian shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly, you can't. You just have to. I wouldn't lie about something like this."

"I don't trust anyone," the Black Cat told her.

"Then maybe it's time to."

The Cat nodded. "How do we get out of here?"

"I dunno," Jillian said. "You just had to go and steal something, didn't you?"

The Cat held the painting before the two and analyzed it. "It would go great in my apartment." They both looked at each other, unsure of what to do and what to say. Jillian finally broke the ice and laughed.

**_A/N: I'm posting this on all my fanfics. Please bare with me--I know that it is taking me longer than usual to update, and that the chapters are relatively short. My personal life just got a hell of a lot more hectic, and I am trying to keep up with my fics as best as I can._**


	13. The Great Escape

The Black Cat was a thief, and part of her skill included great escapes. It was too bad she didn't have anything in mind. Jillian said it was typical: the one time she's with her, the Cat was stumped about a getaway. Jillian scolded her when she started walking with the painting.

"But my apartment--"

"Cat!" Jillian said.

Cat suddenly smiled. "I have an idea," she said. She took the painting and, smiling at the security camera that was stationed in the corner of the back wall, shoved the frame in. The two walls held it in place, and the canvas blocked the camera's view. Not that it mattered, really. There were cameras everywhere.

"Now that you wasted time," Jillian said, "what do you have in mind?"

The Cat pointed to an air vent. "Come on!" Jillian whined. "How cliche is that? I'm not even gonna fit!"

"Who said to super-size at McDonalds?" The Black Cat asked. "Listen, it's all I can think of and I need to save my father."

Jillian nodded. "I can't really reach up there..." she said, looking up at the ceiling.

"I'll have no problem jumping in there. I can hoist you up."

"You can what?"

The Cat rolled her eyes, bending down to Jillian's legs. She lifted her up, groaning, and shoved her into the air. Jillian was thrown up into the air vent, and she pushed her two hands out to the sides to hold herself. She pulled herself up, really wishing she was five pounds lighter. Security was on their way, and Cat shoved Jillian's butt and jumped in herself.

"How slow are you, Finch?"

"Never mind! Now what?"

"Crawl, duh."

"Easy for you to say," Jillian moaned. She remembered the last time she had been in an air vent: she was kidnapped by the Sinister Six, she recalled. Oh, such good times! As she crawled, she really did think about all the problems that her job had caused her. Her family and friends were targeted, her workplace was attacked, her apartment was burnt down: and for what? To have her name in print?

"Turn left," Cat called out. "There should be an opening to the roof."

Jillian obeyed, and sure enough there was a latch on the top. She crawled past it, allowing Cat room to roll over on her back and kick her foot out at the screen. The cold outside air filled the vent. Jillian was the first out. She was pessimistic as soon as she got two feet on the rooftop. "Now we're stuck on the roof. They have the place surrounded."

"I know," Cat said. "Which is why it's time to run. As soon as we hit the streets we split up. We'll meet on the roof of the _Bugle_--"

"Too obvious of a meeting place."

Cat smiled. "Exactly." She walked over to an access ladder, told Jillian to go down first, and waited. Jillian didn't look down; she just jumped on the ladder and climbed. She was so afraid she'd be arrested right there, as soon as her feet touched the ground. But she wasn't. An officer did yell, "Freeze!" And she complied. But when the Black Cat jumped down from seemingly nowhere, they both ran.

**_A/N: Sorry about the length! I know, I'm terrible. I will not be updating for a week or two--it's my birthday and also midterms, which means more studying and partying(they go together well in the same sentence, huh?) and less time for fanficing. I'll try to get on, though. Sorry, and enjoy!_**


	14. The Wrong Side Of The Law

"I am gonna kill her!" was the last thing Jillian screamed before darting away from the police. She had turned down a corner and stopped for a moment to take off her heels. But the cops found her and she started running again, shoes in hand.

Jillian had never been on the run before. It was sort of exhilierating. Terrifying, too. But her head was in a deep fog; it took her five minutes to realize she wasn't heading towards the _Bugle_, which was their meeting place.

She turned down an alleyway and cut across to a new street where she headed the opposite direction. She felt her cell phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out quickly as she kept on running.

"Hello?

It was Peter. "Jillian! Are you nuts? Where are you?"

"I take it you know what's going on," she said, huffing.

"You're on the news! Where are you?"

"I dunno...oh crap. Gotta go!"

"Wait! Jill-" but she slapped her phone shut and quickened her pace. More policemen were headed towards her, and she could see the flashing lights of a police car.

Did this make her a felon? Would she go to jail? She didn't steal anything. She didn't help the Cat escape...well, if you read between the lines, then yes, she did. But what about her father and the Kingpin? Did that not count for anything?

Jillian turned quickly down an alleyway, out of sight from the police. She spied a fire-escape ladder that reached a rooftop, and she decided to try it for a new route. She felt like she was climbing so slow, and she was afraid she'd get shot at or something of the sort. But she made it to the rooftop, and with no one around to watch, she headed for the access stairwell. She figured she would hide on some random floor. Under a desk, maybe. In a closet. She had her plan all set, but when she got to the door, she found it was locked. Of course. Just her luck.

"Stop right there, Finch!"

Jillian threw her hands up in the air. Five years? Ten? What would her jail sentence be? She turned around, and then relaxed. Spider-Man.

"Don't move, Jillian!"

She was stricken and confused. Her face showed it.

"Are you in league with the Black Cat?"

"What? No! Are you--"

"Jillian..."

He was serious. Jillian could not believe he was serious. "Spider-Man, I'm not. Her father is in danger. I went to warn her and we left together." She could tell he wasn't buying it. He was very tense, thinking. "Peter," Jillian said, knowing the use of his name would throw him off. "How long have you known me?"

Spider-Man relaxed and walked over. "Not long enough." He pulled her wrist over to the edge of the building. "Where are you meeting Cat?"

"The_ Bugle."_

"The _Bugle?"_

She shrugged. "It was a last minute thing! Don't judge me."

Spider-Man picked her up. "Oh, I judge!" and he took off, shooting a webline which stuck to a higher building. "Finch, the things you get yourself into..."

"Psh. You don't have to tell me.."

_**A/N: In case you lovely readers haven't noticed, I need to get my creative juices flowing. I'm trying--I've just been so booked for time lately. **_


	15. The Drill

Jillian had been on the rooftop of the _Daily Bugle_ before, but never had it felt so eerie. Spider-Man was holding onto her tightly, even after he hand landed and released his webline. The Black Cat had not arrived yet.

"I really never saw how much trouble this job got me into," Jillian said, trying to start a conversation to be rid of the silence.

Spider-Man nodded. "My pal Urich knows that. We actually lost an employee a while back, when she saw doing a report on the Green Goblin."

Jillian frowned. That didn't help her mood at all. She often wondered if she was truly happy with her life. She didn't want to wake up one day and realize it was too late to change anything. She chased after her dreams; and at one point, her current occupation had been that dream. But was it all she thought it could be?

The Black Cat emerged from the shadows, her mysterious mannerisms all gone. She was sweating and breathing hard. "My father," she panted.

Jillian smiled. "We'll get him." She looked at Spider-Man. "I'll give you directions, Webs. Cat, trail us, but at a distance. I don't want you being spotted."

The Cat nodded. Her eyes were fixed on Spider-Man. The silence between them did not last long, for Jillian wasn't about to stand on a rooftop that was an obvious location for her to be at while she was a wanted felon. "We can leave, you know. I'm sure your dad would appreciate that."

The Cat bit her lip, a little embarrassed. Jillian didn't understand what was going on, nor did she care. Spider-Man hoisted her up in her arms, told the Black Cat to stay about ten paces behind him, and jumped into the city.

Jillian never got used to the sensation of webswinging. Her stomach dropped, her eyes teared, and the wind blew her hair in disarray. She held on tighter, afraid she would fall. She knew Spider-Man would never allow that to happen, but still; when one was that high up, such things goes through the mind.

Jillian kept glancing back, scanning the rooftops for the Black Cat. She couldn't spot her; the Cat was good at what she did. Jillian saw a police car rolling down the street. It was going slow, with the officers in the front seats shining a flashlight out the window. _I wonder who they're searching for_, Jillian thought amusingly.

Spider-Man said as he continued swinging, "Jillian, what were you thinking, going after her like that?"

She didn't answer him.

"You don't realize what you do until the consequences come around and bite you in the ass."

"She needed help. Her dad's in trouble. I thought that was enough."

"You need to remember, we can't trust her. What happened to the old Jillian, calling the cops and telling Cat off? Suddenly she's not a criminal, just because her father is in danger?" Spider-Man landed on a rooftop and set Jillian down. The building that the Kingpin resided in was across the street.

"Shouldn't it be enough?" Jillian asked him.

He sighed. "It should be. But it never is."

The Black Cat landed beside them moments later. She wasn't smiling as she stared at the building across the way. "How are we going to do this?" She asked. "Do we have a plan?"

Spider-Man nodded. "You need to find your father and get him out of there. That's it. Don't stay there a minute longer than you need to."

"And what about you?"

"I'm going in there and bringing the Kingpin down."

The Cat said, "How come you get to--"

"Unless you want to get arrested afterwards? Just do what you're told for once, Cat! Jillian is going to call the police as soon as you give her the all-clear. She'll be waiting on the street corner," he pointed down to the ground. "You land on that rooftop there," he pointed again, "and give her a thumbs-up or whatever. Then get your dad to safety and don't do anything stupid."

"Knowing her, she's not going to listen," Jillian mumbled just loud enough so everyone could hear.

"I got it, Spider-Man," the Black Cat said. "Thank you. Both of you. I know you don't have to do this."

Spider-Man shook his head. "I have to. I'm a superhero. This 'saving people' thing is part of the deal."

Jillian added, "Even if it's the father of a crazy thief who dresses like a slutty cat."

The Black Cat laughed. "I'll go in from the roof and start searching the rooms. Maybe stop by to look at a security feed if one is available."

Spider-Man cracked his knuckles. "I'm walkin' in the front door."

Jillian nodded. "I have my cell phone ready. We all know the drill. Let's do this."

_**A/N: I'm going on vacation, so I'll be a little slow with the updates. Sorry! I know you don't deserve it. Thank you for being so patient with me.**_


	16. Late Into The Night

Spider-Man felt odd, using the front door in his costume. He always used windows or stairwells on rooftops to enter buildings. But the Kingpin deserved this special treatment. It appeared that security seemed stunned to see him, as they didn't approach right away. Spider-Man smiled as he noticed this. "Nice to see you're doin' your jobs, boys!" he told the two men. They were broad-shouldered, wearing black suits. "Kingpin know 'bout this?"

The men advanced, their guns out. He wondered if they'd shoot inside the Kingpin's place; maybe they'd be afraid of hitting something of value. But a shot was fired. Nope, they didn't care.

Spider-Man shot a webline at one of the men's feet. he ran backwards, extending the webline like a rope, tripping the other with it. He laughed out loud, though he had tried to help it. It was so cliche, but still so funny.

The man whose feet were webbed together aimed a shot at Spider-Man's head. If it hadn't been for his spider-sense, he would have been one dead bug. But he dropped to the ground, hearing the bullet whizz over his head and crash into a vase that had been on display. "Hey, watch where you're aimin' that thing!" he said, pointing to the vase. "Someone better clean that up before your boss sees had has a hissy fit."

"I've already seen it, Spider-Man."

His huge, monstrous shadow casted over Spider-Man. He had forgotten how gigantic the Kingpin was, and for a moment he was the same scared kid who used to get teased by Flash Thompson back in high school. "Oboy."

* * *

The Black Cat had entered stealthfully through an airshaft on the roof. It was cliche, of course, but it was cliche because it worked. 

The halls were long and confusing, but the fact that her father had to be there pressed her on. She did not call out for him, as she knew that A) he probably wouldn't be able to hear her, and B) she'd draw attention to herself, calling out names like that.

But suddenly, as she saw the hall stretched on forever, she didn't care._ "Dad?"_

* * *

Jillian was waiting in her assigned spot, as the plan had been set out. It was cold, and she was shivering, but she remained in place. This would make a hell of a story! But she scolded herself. _Lives are at risk. Don't think about that._

Suddenly she heard a gunshot. She jumped and screamed out a bit. Her first instinct was that Spider-Man had been shot. She wanted to run inside, but no, she had to control herself. There was a hostage involved here, more or less. Spider-Man knew what he was doing to give Cat time to find her dad and get him the hell out of there.

Jillian pulled out a lighter and sucked on the cancer stick. She didn't want to be there right now...

Another shot was fired. Jillian stomped her foot down and bit her lip. _Don't go in there, don't go in there..._

_Ah, screw it._

Jillian ran down to street level, the cigarette still burning down in her hand. She was on the opposite side of the street, afraid to cross and look in through a window and find Spider-Man bleeding out on the floor. She put her cigarette to her lips once more, and as she did a blurry red figure crashed through the window. More like thrown, violently. Jillian watched as Spider-Man skidded on the pavement to a halt. She screamed out, running towards him in the middle of the road.

"Jillian?" he heaved. "N-no! Get out of here!"

The two guards rushed outside, their black suits dirty from the fight. Their guns were out, pointed at the two. Jillian then saw the Kingpin's bulking frame peering from the broken window, and in awe and pure shock she dropped her burning cigarette to the ground.


End file.
